PZ 3 
. M2223 


C 

COPY 1 






Calvin Paxton’s 
Patinos »» 




McLaren 




SR, 








mm * 


















U''<> 








1 


r 












4 




■v 










^ s> V 

. 


_ j * 

< W 1 A 


Kfyj-^y 




O’ %% * k 

In*. W. * f 4 




/ 1 *i:> 








.<* 








r- 


‘ 

I 

Wjffj k l- ! I . »• 

fcJtL * V ^ * > 

^ i 


< 












zmJf 


*WM 


%r#- * 


4 » 








4 


i 




Calvin Paxton's 
Patinos »» 


2 * 


JAMES H. McLaren 


FOR SALE BY 

The Pilgrim Press 

175 WABASH AVENUE 
CHICAGO, ILL. 

1898 

L 



^,"7 ^ 

l> 




V 


V 








27883 


MAR . (3 1899 


Copyright , i # j 9,9 

BY 

JAMES H. MCLAREN 

TWO COPIES REC.~iVc.fl. 



PRINTED BY 

JOHN A. ULRICH 
215 Madison Street, Chicago. 


Calvin Paxton's Patmos 


CHAPTER I. 

The Rev. Calvin Paxton is seated in his elegant 
study, the place which of all others he most loved to be. 
It is a large upper room in the auspacious parsonage ad- 
joining the historic Old North Church; in from the 
noise and bustle of the busy streets (juiet, but never 
lonely. For books are the Doctor's dearest friends, and 
his communion with master spirits is real and sweet. 

The night is bleak and keen; the cold wind is playing 
its mournful dirge in the branches of those mighty 
trees which adorn the lovely Mansion Park. The star- 
light is sparkling upon the air and the pale moonbeams 
streaming through the drifting clouds fall dim and soft 
on the cold white earth. The great city shines in her 
electric beauty as if she had donned her evening dress, 
bedecked with myriad diamonds; and the night, is 
grander than the day. 

Streams of busy life are pouring to and fro. Some 
are happy, but more are sad. Cold is the bitterest ene- 
my of the poor, and in that great center of extremes, 
many are cold, cheerless and weary of life. But Paxton 
is warm and happy; so likewise are his flock — safe 


4 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


folded and at rest. He is pastor of the wealthiest church 
in America. His wife is the daugther of the strongest 
supporter, one of the richest men in the world. There- 
fore why should Paxton be other than happy? Why 
should the poor, cold world trouble him? He has plenty 
and his people are not in need. If they were poor and 
suffering, why that would be another matter and he 
might feel quite different; but they are not so; all are 
rich and none are poor. Therefore Paxton’s mind is 
free to enter upon those intellectual pursuits which he 
so dearly loves. The poor and their needs, however, 
are by no means ignored by either the pastor or his peo- 
ple. But both realize that their work is of another type. 
Every preacher hath his work and every church its 
sphere. Paxton was not the preacher of the poor — his 
church was not their home. At times it grieved him to 
think that this was so, for he was a good man, con- 
scientious and true to his convictions. 

“Only two days to Christmas, and the sermon scarce 
begun,” he reflects, glancing at the skeleton of what 
was meant for one of his greatest sermons, and then at 
the backs of several theological works which adorned 
the shelves above his desk. “I must allow no further 
interruptions,” thought he, “Until after the Holidays, 
for this year I desire to unfold the doctrine of the In- 
carnation clearer and in more convincing form than ever 
before, and there is no time to do this like Christmas, 
the birthday of Christ.” 

With such thoughts in mind, the Rev. Calvin Paxton 


CALVIN PAXTON’S P ATMOS, 


5 


seated himself at his oak-desk, pulled down several of the 
great, time honored, but somewhat antiquated theologi- 
cal works, adjusted his gold bows, and buried his 
thought in the theme which was the dearest of all to 
him — the mystery of the Incarnation. His aim was to 
prove by the best authorities in all ages that God was ac- 
tually in Christ and lived in the world as a man; that 
the doctrine, although mysterious, is not impossible, 
and in no way belittling to the Almighty. Some of his 
illustrations are convincing, even beautiful. “It is not 
belittling to the great sun in the heavens,” he argues, 
“that its wondrous beams, which brighten the face of 
the ocean and clothe the mountains in splendor, shine 
also upon the tinest flower that hangs on its slender 
neck. Nay — but it is an enlargement of the sun and 
adds to his greatness. It is not a belittling of the 
Father, even though He be the Ruler of nations, if still 
he condescends to give special care to his smallest and 
weakest child — it is an enlargement of the Father. 
“And thus,” he declares, “the Incarnation — God in hu- 
man form — is an enlargement of God.” 

These were, perhaps, the most practical illustrations 
that Paxton had ever thought out, for he was anything 
but a practical man. He was pre-eminently a theo- 
logian, one of the straigthest sect — an orthodox of 
the orthodox. His studies, his sermons, and his writ- 
ings were strictly along doctrinal lines, dry, hard and 
dead. Indeed, this was the only objection that a num- 
ber of his more progressive people (secretly of course) 


6 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


offered to his sermons. They were scholarly but life- 
less and born of the seventeenth century theology. No 
one, objected however openly, for it was a long standing 
tradition of the Old North Church, that it never openly 
opposed a preacher, nor turned one away — a record of 
which any church might well be proud, and to whose 
service any true man would joyfully consecrate every 
power of his being. But Calvin Paxton was undoubted- 
ly a great man and a leader of the conservative wing of 
his school. Every one knew that he had declined two 
flattering calls to fill professor’s chairs, prefering his 
position as pastor of the Old North, to that of a profes- 
sorship, even in a theological seminary. For was not 
he the preacher to the faculty and students of a great 
university? Paxton was not ignorant of the fact that 
to a majority of his hearers his preaching seemed to be 
far behind the times and unprofitable. But he was con- 
scientious in it. This they knew, and for this reason 
they respected him while dissenting from his theology. 

Dr. Paxton was not, therefore, the happiest of mor- 
tals. In his soul there was an empty, aching void which 
theology did not seem to fill or books to satisfy. There 
was a felt absence of that power which he had sought so 
long and dilligently to obtain’ — how to help man in his 
deeper need. Paxton had at times experienced deep 
consciousness of this lack of power, but never quite so 
keenly as he had since his old friend and class-mate, 
Rev. William Wholeheart, had responded to Paxton’s 
pressing invitation and preached in the Old North 


CALVIN PAXTON’S P ATMOS, 


7 


Church. Paxton was so impressed by that sermon that 
he could not cease thinking about it. 

Eev. William Wholeheart, although a class-mate of 
Dr. Paxton, and many years his senior, was a remark- 
ably quiet man and obscure. The little parish of Lone 
Valley, where he had been settled ever since ordination, 
was some fifteen miles from the city. His grandparents 
were quakers, and even in his student days William 
manifested a decided leaning in that direction. He al- 
ways made use of the personal pronouns “Thee and 
thou,” and for this reason he received from his class- 
mates the title “Quaker William,” a title which, how- 
ever, he seemed rather to enjoy. 

It was only after much pursuasion that William 
Wholeheart consented to occupy the pulpit of his dis- 
tinguished class-mate and friend, for he felt that he 
would be decidedly out of place in such surroundings. 
But Dr. Paxton who knew his abilities as a scholar and 
a thinker and who had so loved and honored him in 
college on account of his beautiful character, his un- 
common kindness of heart, was far from agreeing with 
him. For this kind act Paxton was more than repaid 
in seeing the wonderful effect of his friend’s preaching 
upon the great congregation. By the simple, yet beau- 
tiful words, so earnestly spoken by the quiet, unassum- 
ing man, he won all hearts to himself, and especially 
Paxton’s, who, from beginning to end, sat with his eyes 
riveted in loving admiration upon his old friend and 
class-mate. The audience was equally impressed. 


8 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


President Ellery, of Hadding University, with several 
of the Professors and students, would not leave the 
church until they had made the acquaintance and 
clasped hands with this great, good man. 

His theme w r as the nature and locality of heaven. 
He called attention first to the material heavens which 
the big telescopes reveal, and declared that upon no 
sphere in the great universe, however boundless or beau- 
tiful, can heaven be discovered or ever realized until it 
is first experienced and known within the little sphere 
of the human heart. Thus he located heaven — not upon 
some world in space, but in the heart which loves and 
serves God because it loves and serves man who is a child 
of God. Then in words of strength and beauty he pro- 
ceeded to unfold the qualities of life and traits of char- 
acter which make heaven here and hereafter. “As the 
ocean is known by a single drop,” he said, “and the light 
of the universe by a single beam, so heaven is known by 
those little tear drops of sympathy which glisten on the 
face which reflects another’s grief. And those sweet 
little sun beams of loving kindness which stream with 
warmth and beauty from eyes of tenderness and love 
and enter into the hearts that are aching and sad.” 
Then he closed by affirming that this most precious of 
all blessings can come not through learning nor through 
books, but only in one way, the lowly way of loving 
obedience and deeds of kindness. 

This sermon made a lasting impression upon Dr. 
Paxton. Day by day he felt more keenly the fact that 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS y 


9 


his life was an empty void and that something for which 
he longed was surely lacking. So deeply was he im- 
pressed with this thought, that at last he wrote to his 
old and long trusted friend, describing his feeling and 
asking Wholeheart to tell him the secret of his power 
and how he had acquired it. 

No sooner had Paxton become absorbed in his theme 
than he heard a gentle tapping upon his study door — 
his wife’s familiar knock. “A message of importance 
thought he — for his study was like an impregnable fort- 
ress, closely guarded by his talented wife.” “A note, 
my dear, from Prof. Hammond,” said Mrs. Paxton ap- 
proaching her husband’s desk. “It is quite important 
and he is awaiting your reply; that is why I ventured 
to disturb you.” Prof. Hammond was one of Doctor 
and Mrs. Paxton’s most intimate and highly respected 
friends, and therefore the intrusion was excusable. 

Paxton took the note from his wife’s hand and read 
as follows: “Dear Pastor and friend — Please pardon 
this infringement upon your study hours which I find 
myself unable to avoid. For some time we have been 
desirous of creating an interest in the work of our Sun- 
day School. To this end we wish this year to make our 
Christmas concert one of more than ordinary interest. 
The Sunday School, including myself, especially desire 
that you shall give us a fifteen minutes’ talk at the con- 
cert. We shall all be greatly pleased to have your pres- 
ence and the fact that you may speak, will I am sure, 
add much to the interest of the occasion. 


10 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS t 


Hoping for a favorable reply at once, as we must 
make up our program to-night. I am dear pastor. 
Yours in the cause. — J. C. Hammond. 

P. S. — It has been suggested that the talk he prac- 
tical rather than doctrinal; but this, of course, is only a 
suggestion. The theme of our concert is the Angelic 
Visitants. — J. C. H. 

It was the words in the postscript, “It has been sug- 
gested that the talk be practical rather than doctrinal,” 
which especially arrested Paxton’s attention and seemed 
to disturb him not a little. He had always known that 
his preaching had been dogmatic, especially for the 
younger and more progressive element of his church, 
and this frank suggestion from the Sunday School, 
through Prof. Hammond, seemed like a straw, telling 
him which way the current of feeling was setting. He 
noticed too, that his good wife blushed slightly as he 
read these words, but she made no comment. “A prac- 
tical talk to the Sunday School,” said Paxton to his 
wife: “Surely my people should know by this time that 
I am not a practical talker. I only wish that I could 
be,” he said thoughtfully. “It has recently become the 
regret of my life that I so lack the power of speaking 

along more practical lines and ” “But, my dear, it 

will not do to refuse Prof. Hammond. You know he is 
one of our dearest friends, one on whom we especially 
rely. Think of all that he has done in the interest of 
the Sunday School. Is it not an inspiring example 
to us all that one so talented, one holding a chair so 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


11 


important in a great university should give so much of 
his precious time and thought to the work of a Sunday 

School?” “I know, my dear, I know, but •” “I 

have it Calvin,” interrupted Mrs. Paxton, whose thought 
was so active in her husband’s welfare that his last words 
were unnoticed. “You notice by the postscript that the 
theme is “The Angelic Visitants.” Now in your prac- 
tical talk just state the purpose of the Angel’s visit — 
state that it was an extraordinary vision — a vision 
of angels for an extraordinary purpose — to pro- 
claim to the world the birth of the Redeemer 
of mankind. Then in the second place, call atten- 
tion to the fact that this wonderful manifestation 
was made not to the great rulers of nations, nor in 
a brilliant city, but rather to the humble shepherds upon 
the lowly plain — just ordinary men about their ordi- 
nary duty, and not thinking at all of the vision of angels. 
Then state that many of heaven’s grandest visions have 
been revealed to the faithful and lowly, and that still 
the grandest, the greatest blessings of heaven, come to 
those who are faithfully performing the humblest tasks 
of life and the hardest labor of the world in its most 
obscure corners..” “Beautiful, Alice, beautiful, your 
words impress me deeply. You really ought to be the 
preacher. I will go to work on this outline at once” — 
and Mrs. Paxton, whose face was radiant with delight, 
conscious that she had scored a triumph, withdrew. 


12 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS , 


CHAPTER II. 

When Mrs. Paxton passed out of the study, the Doctor 
noticed some letters which she had placed upon the cor- 
respondence desk and he proceeded to examine them. 
The Doctor’s correspondence was quite extensive. He 
did not read or answer all the letters that came to him, 
but upon one of the envelopes he noticed the stamp, 
“Lone Valley” and recognized the handwriting of his 
old friend, Wholeheart. This letter, which he prized 
more than all the others, Paxton took to his table. 
Running the blade of his gold handled paper cutter 
through the envelope, he opened and read as follows: 
My dear and honored brother: Thy valued letter per- 
mits me to do what I long have desired to do, namely, 
cast off restraint and talking with thee heart to heart. 
Thou hast asked for the secret of my success. I do not 
know that I am successful, but in so far as this may be 
so, there is no secret. My life, however, has long been 
consecrated to humanity. God has placed me in the fur- 
nace and left me in it for a purpose which is becoming 
clearer as the years creep on. This is the kind of train- 
ing, my dear brother, which thou hast not received. 
Thy divinity needs humanizing, thy theology needs 
the coloring of blood. This thou wilt never receive 
from books, of which I know thou art a master. I had 
no success in my work until I changed divinity for hu- 
manity. I now get my divinity in the homes of the 
poor — the media of my inspiration is the little willow 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATHOS , 


13 


basket which always accompanies me to the places 
where the hungry bodies be, and this leads me, to the 
hungry soul. Thou knowest, dear brother, how this 
change has come to me. I need not tell thee of it (He 
refered to the great losses and sorrows which had come 
into his life and which had bent and bowed him to the 
ground. But these trials had moulded him and while 
he was poor in earthly things, he had grown rich in 
heavenly treasures.) Of course I do not wish thee trials 
and sorrows such as mine have been, dear brother, but 
the boon which thou art seeking, namely, power to re- 
veal the Christ life to the world, will never come to thee 
through books or creeds or systems of theology to which 
thy mind and soul seem to be chained. Only in the 
path of humble and loving duty canst thou obtain this 
precious gift. Close the book of dogma and open the 
Book of Life. Those bodies of theology are dead, and 
from them the breath of life has departed. Only out of 
the loving heart that ministers unto the needs of others, 
can come the food of the spirit and the life of God. 

If the path of duty opens to thee, dear Calvin, either 
in the way of departure from old lines, or of self-sacri- 
ficing service to the suffering, or whatever way it comes, 
walk in it, I beg of thee. It will be thy heavenly vision, 
and if thou wilt obey it, great will be thy power and 
sweet thy reward. If it leads into the way of trial and 
suffering, let me remind thee, that the pearl that flashed 
so beautifully in thy loved ones brooch, was perfected 
by pain, and the sweet music which came from the piano 


14 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


in thy parlor at the touch of her fingers, is sweet because 
the sounding board was made from wood which grew not 
in the quiet and shady valley, but the tree which grew on 
the bleak hillside, and whose fibers were disciplined and 
rendered musical by the swaying of the tempests which 
beat upon it. The playing of my organist was, for a 
long time, technically perfect, but lifeless, until God 
placed her in the furnace of affliction, and now we be 
hearing heaven in every sweep of the keys. 

Study humanity, dear Calvin, instead of books, 
which at best are only blocks of cold type and bloodless. 
And thus wilt thou come to love the lives that cling to 
thee, and thine own life will become a greater blessing 
to the world. 

I should ask thy forgiveness for writing my superior 
in this fashion if thou hadst not so kindly invited me 
to do so. In loving interest. — William Wholeheart.” 

These beautiful words, so forcibly put, impressed 
Paxton even more than did Wholeheart’s sermon. In- 
fluenced by them, he went to work immediately upon 
the outline suggested by his brilliant wife, and his suc- 
cess was far beyond his expectation. Never before had 
he so realized, though only in vision, the divinity of ser- 
vice and the sacredness of duty, and it was on these 
points that he dwelt at length and with profit. This 
reminded him, too, of one of the beautiful sayings of 
Thomas a Kempis, in substance, that insight power 
and blessings come to those who lovingly minister unto 
the needs of the lowly. “Yes,” thought he, “that is true 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


15 


as it is beautiful, as are also the words of William. But 
it does not seem to be my mission in life. I really have no 
poor or suffering ones here to be ministered unto. In- 
deed, I never have had, and perhaps,” he reflected, “this 
has been my loss.” “But,” thought he, “if only I am 
faithful in my ministry to the higher classes, and if only 
I can do something to hold the world to a true standard 
of doctrine, from which, alas, it is fast drifting, shall I 
not have done my duty, as well as the missionary to the 
heathen, the worker in the slums, or even dear William 
in his lonely vale. But 0, though he, if I could only 
unfold the vision of the Christ life, as for years I have 
longed to do, and as beautifully as my brother William 
unfolded it, how happy, indeed, I would be!” And this 
had been Paxton’s deepest desire for many years, namely, 
to unfold the doctrine of the Incarnation, and on this 
subject he had written many leading articles which had 
attracted wide attention. But he was almost destitute 
of the imaginative faculty, which was to him a source of 
constant regret. He was indebted to books and systems 
of theology for almost everything that he had produced. 

Bising to replace a volume, his eyes fell upon large 
headlines in the Evening Eecord announcing another 
disaster upon Beacon Island. Some of the boatmen had 
lost their lives in attempting to cross Peril Eeef — a 
broad sheet of water with a deep channel in the middle, 
which separated the island from the mainland. There- 
fore all communication with the island was cut off. 

The words “BEACON ISLAND” suddenly brought 


16 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


Paxton face to face with a sense of long neglected duty. 
“Ah,” he reflected, “I thought that all my people were 
wealthy and at ease, but it is not so. There is at least 
one sweet soul who is poor — very poor, possibly desti- 
tute.” He was thinking of Anna Bennington Bryne. 
She had been his dearest friend in former years; a 
school-mate and most intimate companion of his wife. 
But at that time she was an only daughter of Jacob G. 
Bennington, a wealthy business man, and a prominent 
member of the Old North Church. But through a 
most unfortunate complication of circumstances, over 
which he had no control, and for which he was not re- 
sponsible, Bennington went down, and all his earthly 
possessions with him. He was then thrown out upon a 
cold and a very different kind of world. No longer at 
home in the Old North Church, where the poor and un- 
fortunate never felt quite at ease, he gradually drifted 
away until at last, in the City Hospital, he died of a 
broken heart, and no one seemed to care. Anna, his 
beautiful daughter, was likewise peculiarly unfortunate, 
for, while the man whom she married was strictly hon- 
orable, true and good, and very well to do at the time of 
their marriage, he also, through unfortunate specula- 
tion, was deprived of all his worldly possessions. Driven 
by force of circumstances, he became a light-house 
keeper on Beacon Island. There, upon that lonely speck 
in the angry waters, where the monotony was broken 
only by the moaning and sighing of the billows upon the 
rocks and beach, Bryne, with his lovely bride spent sev- 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


17 


eral long years, and there, also, two sweet children were 
born to them. 

Paxton recalled the sad fact that only one year ago 
that noble and heroic husband, David Bryne, had lost 
his life in attempting to rescue the crew of the sinking 
ship, Waldo, which was owned by Deacon Waldo, of the 
Old North Church. Calvin remembered the great source 
of encouragement which Anna Bennington had been to 
him in former days. lie remembered the time when he 
loved her above all others, the time when her refusal of 
marriage well nigh broke his heart. And had it not 
been for the great influence of her father, would he in- 
deed occupy the grand position which he now held? 
But these were in the days of her prosperity. When 
Anna Bennington became poor and was forced out upon 
the unsympathetic world, and Alice Brownlow, now 
Paxton’s wife, became wealthy, all was changed. But 
he knew they had pledged eternal friendship to each 
other in the days gone and had even planned to share 
each others fortunes. 

The consciousness of duty so long neglected, smote 
his heart and pierced his blood. On Paxton’s brow the 
perspiration stood out like beads. Just then the great 
organ began to peal forth its richest, sweetest tones, and 
music wondrously beautiful filled all the place. It was 
choir practice and the music was Christmas music. 
Artists of renown were in that choir, and its fame had 
spread far and wide. But to-night the music, although 
unusually sweet and grand, had at first, no particular 


18 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


meaning to Paxton. But as he listened his ears caught 
the words, “And there were in the same country shep- 
hards abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock 
by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon 
them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about 
them; and they were sore afraid. And the angel said 
unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good 
tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For 
unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, 
which is Christ the Lord.” Impressed beyond descrip- 
tion, Paxton fell upon his knees and prayed. 

It seemed to be a case of mental or of heart tele- 
pathy, for Mrs. Paxton, who had noticed the same ac- 
count of the disaster, no longer able to suppress her 
feeling, entered the study. Indeed, her struggle was 
greater than his. She was smitten by the consciousness 
of long neglected duty and a forgotten, if not a broken 
promise, as well. For had not she and Anna made 
covenants with each other in their early school days that 
through all the changes and vicissitudes of years to 
come, they would share each others fortunes. Three 
things were quite evident. First, that they had neg- 
lected their duty; second, that the consciousness of their 
duty, so neglected, smote their hearts and caused them 
pain, and third, that the duty should be neglected no 
longer. Anna’s condition on the Island must be as- 
certained as quickly as possible. Another day must not 
pass without relief being sent to her. But Paxton was 
not satisfied with the thought of sending, he must go 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS f 


19 


to her himself. When the sense of neglected duty 
smites the true heart, that duty is never performed by 
proxy. Rushing to the telephone which was near his 
desk, he inquired as to the condition of the winter pass 
over Peril Reef and was informed, that although in- 
volving much danger, it might be crossed at early dawn. 

It was a busy night for Calvin and Alice Paxton. 
Two boatmen were immediately engaged. Grocery and 
clothing centers were called up. Packages large, num- 
erous and valuable were ordered sent to the boat-house — 
so numerous and varied that the boatmen became dazed, 
feeling that some mistake must have been made. After 
the experiences referred to, which were destined to 
change the tenor of Calvin Paxton’s life, he lay him 
down upon his study cot-bed, for a few brief hours of 
sleep with an alarm clock at his ear. 


20 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS, 


CHAPTER III. 

‘•'What is you crying for, dear mama?” asked little 
Willie, looking intently into the sad, wan face of his 
breaking hearted mother, who, seated beside sick Bessie’s 
bed, was bathing her burning brow. “You’s cried a lot 
of times to-day, mama, and it makes nje awful sorry to 
see you do it. What’s the matter?” continued the dear 
child, who, although but five summers, was thoughtful 
beyond his years. “My dear baby,” she replied, “ I 
didn’t intend that you should see me cry, but I was just 
thinking about papa; he left us a year ago to-night 

and ” “Yes, mama, I mind all about it. It was 

just two days afore Christmas (this was Willie’s special 
reason for remembering) and papa came home from the 
grove with a little Christmas tree to hang my presents 
and Bessie’s on, and just when he stood the tree by the 
door, he saw the ship going on the rocks. Then he 
gived me an awful quick kiss and run toward the beach 
and I didn’t see him no more.” “Poor papa! It’s so 
lonesome since he’s gone,” sighed Willie, his words pierc- 
ing still deeper into the heart of the grief stricken 
mother. Willie had not told his little tale until now 
and it only added a new pang of grief to the many which 
the mother had already endured. But Willie, in his 
childlike way, suddenly changed the subject by asking, 
“Mama, is we going to have no Christmas this year 
neither?” “I’s heard a good bit about Santa Claus 
coming with presents to children, but why doesn’t he 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS , 


21 


come to the Island?” Is it because we live so far from 
the land, mama?” “It is likely so, my dear, and I can- 
not promise you any Christmas gifts this year because 
we are so poor, and you know that on account of the long 
storm, the boatmen haven’t been able to cross Peril 
Reef. If they get here to-morrow we may have a little 
something for Christmas, but,” she added with a deep 
sigh, which the child did not understand, “I don’t really 
expect them to-morrow.” “Couldn’t Santa Claus cross 
the water if he tried ?” asked Willie, whose face took on 
a ray of sunshine. “Perhaps so, my dear, if he only 

thought of us and our con ” “But,” interrupted 

Willie, “Can’t Dod send him where he wants to?” 
“Certainly.” “Then couldn’t he send him safe across 
Peril Reef if He wanted to?” “He could, Willie.” 
“And didn’t you say, mama, that He does all the things 
we asks Him to?” “I did, dear.” “Then mama, Santa 
Claus will be here,” said Willie looking heavenward and 
waving his little hand in gesture, expressing wonderful 
confidence as he spoke. “Why do you feel so sure that 
he will come?” inquired the mother, impressed by the 
words of the child. “’Cause I’s going to ask Dod to 
send him,” said Willie, firmly and with a confidence 
which seemed to make it sure. It was only the faith of 
a little child, but it cheered the mother’s sad heart. 

Very quietly, in order not to waken sick Bessie, who 
had just fallen asleep, the loving mother prepared Willie 
for bed. She wished the dear children to have at least 
one more night of sleep, if they could have nothing 


22 


CALTIN rAXTON’S PATMOS, 


more. Indeed, it seemed to her that it might he the 
last night of sleep that they should ever get. She did 
not tell the children that their supper was meager be- 
cause it was their all. But such was the sad fact. But 
Willie added a new sentence to his regular prayer, and 
the reader must see that there could be no hearer or 
answerer of prayer, in the universe, should the little 
petition, under such conditions, be ignored. This was 
the new sentence. a O Dod, please give Santa Claus 
courage to cross Peril Reef to-morrow, and bring us 
some little things, and mama won’t cry no more — Dood 
Night.” 

Poor little objects of fate,” thought the saddened 
mother, as she looked upon the faces of her sleeping 
treasures, who knew not that they were face to face with 
starvation and possibly death. 

“Dear little lambs of the desert, how shall I feed and 
defend you?” “No communication between the Island 
and the mainland, and little hope of there being any for 
several days; nothing in the house to sustain life— no, 
nothing. Could any situation be more precarious? 
Thus Mrs. Bryne’s spirit sank within her and she began 
to grow despondent — I had almost said, desperate. She 
even wished that God would take her dear ones home to 
Himself that night. Why should they live to starve and 
die— anything but that, thought she. Were it not for 
them she could gladly fling her weary form into the sea 
surf and be at rest. “0 for some way out of this sad 
condition! ’ she cried. “How cold and disloyal the world 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATHOS, 


23 


has proven itself to be,” reflected Mrs. Bryne. “Once I 
was flattered, because I was rich, but when riches fled, 
friends departed.” And even the Old North seemed 
cold and distant to her who once moved in its most ex- 
clusive circles. She remembered that upon her last 
visit there, they did not seem to know her. Even Dr. 
and Mrs. Paxton were different. They did not ask her 
to their home. Then she recalled the days when Paxton 
had declared that even if he had a thousand lives he 
would lay them at her feet. But those were the days 
when she was wealthy and called beautiful, and when 
Paxton sought her hand in mariage. But now all was 
different. She was poor, care-worn, destitute, and no 
one seemed to love her. Not even Mrs. Paxton, once 
the beloved Alice, who was her most intimate friend and 
companion in their school days. They graduated in the 
same class; and had not she and Alice Brownlow pledged 
eternal friendship to each other, promising even to share 
each other’s fortunes in life. But the unfortunate ones 
are usually the only ones who KEEP that kind of a 
contract. 

Alice is Dr. Paxton’s happy wife, while she, Mrs. 
Bryne, is alone, destitute and forgotten. She could not 
help recalling the fact also that more than once Paxton 
had informed her that he was especially indebted to her 
father for his position as pastor of the Old North 
Church. On fine Sabbath mornings she could hear the 
chimes of its great, rich bell coming to her over the 
placid waters; but its music lacked the sweetness of 


24 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS y 


former years. “0 ungrateful world!” thought she, 
“would that I and my loved ones were no longer above 
your sod?” And again poor Mrs. Bryne began to grow 
desperate in her intensity. But she thought of Willie’s 
prayer, with its unquestioning confidence and sweet sim- 
plicity, and she remembered how she had heard good 
Prof. Hammond once tell the children in Sunday School, 
the many and wonderful ways in which God had 
answered the prayers of little children. Could she not 
trust God even in this great crisis of life? Deliverance 
had come to others in all ages and conditions. Might it 
not come to her and her precious children even now? 
And was not she a little too severe in her criticism of the 
Old North? Perhaps it was, as she had often heard, 
simply oversight, rather than a disposition to be in- 
humane, or to forget any of their unfortunate members. 
She recalled times when the discovery of distress had 
surprised both pastor and people, and was promptly at- 
tended to then in the right, quiet and substantial way. 
One thing she was sure of, namely, that Doctor or Mrs. 
Paxton would not rest at ease that night if only they 
knew her real situation and the intensity of her grief. 
Thus calmed somewhat in spirit, she lay her weary head 
down beside her little ones and tried to sleep. But her 
mind was so active and so troubled, that of course she 
could not. 

Something must be done at once, or the end was 
near. Then thought she of Paul Marian, whose busi- 
ness it was to look after some government buildings and 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATHOS , 


25 


attend the light on the Southwestern part of the Island. 
“But he is not likely there/’ thought she, “for that 
light is not now burning.” If he was there, and knew 
of her distress, he would certainly have come to them, 
for were they not firm friends? Paul Marian, though 
outwardly rough, was kind-hearted and true. 

But even if he were not there, some provisions 
might be found in the house which would sustain life a 
little longer. However, she would go and see. This 
was her last hope, which, be it ever so feeble, is always 
sweet. A hard journey, indeed, through woods and 
drifted snow, but what is impossible where mother-love 
is the motive which prompts it? With this thought and 
its bit of sunshine Mrs. Bryne fell asleep and her dreams 
were pleasant. In vision she saw a bright and beautiful 
future, happy and prosperous, as in the days of yore. 
But, alas, she awoke to find that it was but a dream. 

With the first faint quiver of light, Mrs. Bryne began 
preparing for the journey of life or death. Building a 
fire upon the hearth, she took from the shelf the last 
morsel of anything that might be called food, which was 
a little can of milk. This she placed near the fire to 
warm for the children. Then after explaining to Willie as 
best she could, where she was going, and for what, Mrs. 
Bryne passed out into the cold, bleak morning. Climbing 
the light-house ladder, she gazed intently across Peril 
Eeef, toward the distant boat-house on the further side, 
but all seemed dreary and foreboding, no one was visible. 
Descending the steps of the long, slippery ladder, she 
started in the direction of Paul Marian’s house. 


26 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


CHAPTER IV. 

The sunbeams, like golden spears, are darting out of 
the bosom of the sea. Three men who at the peril of 
their lives, have battled hard with wind and tide, snow 
and drifting ice, are standing under the lee of Beacon 
Island, well nigh exhausted. These are Doctor Paxton 
and his two brave boatmen, Samuel Rand and Billy 
Bray. They were there when the widow climbed the 
light-house ladder — that is why she did not observe 
them. (The distance from the outmost point of Cape 
Tempest on Beacon Island is three and one half miles, 
Through the strait runs a swift current, carrying 
fields of floating ice. Ponds of water are every where 
upon the rough surface, making the journey difficult 
and dangerous.) 

The work of transportation quickly began. With 
dog-sleds brought for the occasion, the great weight of 
valuable gifts were drawn towards the cottage. When 
Willie saw the Doctor in his great furs, the dogs and 
sleds, and the boatmen, his first thought was to conceal 
himself. But upon reflection, he grabbed the firetongs, 
and running to Bessie’s bed-side, he stood there like a 
little hero, brave and defiant, determined to protect his 
sick sister from the invaders. The Doctor was deeply 
touched. With gentle words, while unwrapping some 
of the bundles, he gradually gained Willie’s confi- 
dence. The child’s face was a study. He looked 
intently at the Doctor, and then slowly dropped 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


27 


the tongs, and approached step by step towards his 
benefactor. 

“Please sir, is you Mr. Santa Claus?” asked Willie 
thoughtfully. “I am, my little man,” promptly re- 
plied the Doctor, “Why do you ask?” “Cause,” said 
Willie, “I asked Dod to send you to-night, and He went 
and sent you this morning. But we has nothing in the 
house to eat and Bessie’s sick. We’re awful hungry and 
I’s glad he did send you.” “Yes, my child, He has sent 
me,” said the Doctor, with equal confidence, “But where 
is your mama?” Then Willie told him, as well as he 
could, where his mother had gone, and for what purpose. 
To say that the Doctor was greatly moved is putting it 
mildly. For now he saw the real situation. Truly his 
coming had rescued them from the jaws of death. Al- 
ready the deeper meaning was beginning to dawn. An- 
other day’s delay, and then what? God! He could not 
bear to think. 

The Doctor plans to give Mrs. Bryne a genuine sur- 
prise. The fire is rekindled, the chidren fed; the nu- 
merous and valuable presents are spread upon the table, 
hung upon the walls, and piled upon the floor. Already, 
in the deep enjoyment of his noble act, the Doctor is be- 
ginning to reap his rich reward. 

At last, weary, and almost exhausted, utterly dis- 
couraged, Mrs. Bryne came trudging home. Under her 
arm a little package which she never had occasion to 
open. A half dozen mouldy hard-tack was all that she 
could find at Paul’s house, and he was gone. Another 


28 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PAT MO S, 


storm is gathering upon the horizon, but the greater 
storm is within. With her loved ones, she stands upon 
the brink of eternity. God, how can she bear to see 
them starve to death! She must not — nay, that night, 
she must somehow take her unfortunate little treasures 
and go home to meet the God whose ways have so 
puzzled her. But 0, how can this be accomplished? 
Her own case is easy, but her dear ones — must she end 
their pain, or see them starve to death? Truly she is in 
a strait betwixt two. The situation is tragic, but she 
must meet the inevitable. Her cause is just and God is 
responsible. Of the future she has no fear, her only 
fear is for the present. 

She saw not the Christmas angels who had come on 
foot rather than on wings. She did not dream of any 
one being there. With sad heart she approached the 
dreary dwelling; exhausted and strengthless she fell 
against the door landing upon the floor as one out of 
whom life has departed. As consciousness returns the 
strong anus of her benefactor are beneath her and Mrs. 
Bryne opens her eyes to behold one whom she has seen 
before. 

The effect of her surprise can never be told in words. 
Had she come to the wrong place, or had God answered 
her prayer and taken the poor widow and her dear chil- 
dren to heaven? For indeed, it looked like a little piece 
of heaven lowered down to earth. The fire is blazing 
bright and warm upon the hearth, the walls are hung 
with beautiful things — clothing for the children and 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


29 


herself — nothing is lacking or inferior, all is new. The 
table is daintily spread with substantial food and a 
variety of delicacies. There is turkey, fat and heavy, 
rolls, pies, bread, cakes as big as cart wheels, and pud- 
dings with to use Willie's words “a pum in every bite / 5 
There are bundles upon the floor, and what not? The 
Doctor and his men had concealed themselves in order 
to witness the effect of the surprise, and in the end they 
were not disappointed. 


30 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


CHAPTEE Y. 

It was a day of retrospection and of hope. Together, 
Dr. Paxton and Mrs. Bryne reviewed the past, with its 
varied experience and planned for the future. It was 
a blessed day and one never to be forgotten. Bessie's 
severe sickness, however, flung its shadow upon the 
brightness. Her illness seemed unto death. Dr. Paxton 
had already dispatched the boatmen with a message to 
bring the family physician who was requested to come at 
once, even at the risk of his life. 

Paxton became somewhat worried about his sermon on 
the Incarnation, for the day was drawing to its close and 
the chance for his return seemed hopeless. The sun 
sank into a cloud, the day was fading into the night, 
and it was quite evident that another storm was pend- 
ing. Night was fast approaching. In the distance the 
storm was already visible. No boatmen came, and there 
was no communication with the mainland for that 
night, at least. Paxton grew still more worried and ner- 
vous. The next day was Christmas eve and his sermon 
unprepared. He could picture the vast, cultured audi- 
ence before him, and he unprepared to meet it. Besides 
all this, the theological review was waiting for the man- 
uscript of that particular discourse. It was partly on 
account of their request that he started to write it. But 
why did he not send the boatmen, instead of coming 
himself? True he was in the line of duty, in a sense, 
but duty often marks her paths in two directions, and 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS y 


31 


could he not have accomplished his duty still more fully 
by sending the boatmen to look after the suffering ones, 
and himself remaining in his study? What would the 
congregation think, and what might the church do when 
it learned that its pastor was absent on a mere plea of 
charity? How quickly would they remind him that 
they were paying their thousands annually for the sup- 
port of associated charities, whose business it was to 
look after all such matters. He was the minister of the 
Old North, not a charity worker. His mission was to 
preach to a cultured congregation. That was all they 
asked of him, and that they certainly had a right to 
expect. And he wondered if after all their argument 
was not a bona fide one, — for he was not his own, he 
was bought with a price — a very high price too — $12,000 
a year, an elegant parsonage, and a long vacation in 
Europe. 

But once more the better side of Paxton’s manhood 
asserted itself. He thought of the joy that had already 
come to him in the preformance of this blessed duty — 
a duty too long, and too shamefully neglected. He 
thought also of Wm. Wholeheart’s beautiful words and- 
these made him feel more reconciled. Had he not re- 
sponded to Prof. Hammon’s request, according to his 
wife’s suggestion, he would not have come to Beacon 
Island, and therefore he could not have rescued these 
precious lives from death. The sermon on the Incarna - 
tion would undoubtedly have been written, strong and 
convincing, but it would have been the price of blood. 


32 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


This now appealed to him as his real duty and he re- 
solved to continue manfully unto the end. He would 
stay by his friend and her little children that night and 
another too, if the sermon on the Incarnation should 
never be written. He would stay there until Bessie was 
dead or better, if it cost him the pulpit of the Old North. 

In the strength of this noble resolve, he became more 
reconciled, and sat down to read; taking out a pocket 
testament, he happened to open at the words, “Then 
was Jesus led up of the Spirit to be tempted of the devil, 
who showed Him all the kingdoms of the world, and 
said, All these things will I give you if thou wilt fall 
down and worship me. But Jesus said, Get thee hence 
Satan, for it is written, man shall not live by bread 
alone, but from every word that proceedeth out of the 
mouth of God. And immediately Satan left Him and 
angels came and ministered unto Him.” Again he open- 
ed to the story of a poor widow, who had once cast two 
little mites into the Lord’s treasury, and who, for her 
act of loving devotion, had received her Lord’s approval 
and blessing in greater measure than the wealthy Sad- 
ducees and Pharisees. Once more he opened to the 
words, “For eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
have entered into the heart of man the things that God 
hath prepared for them that love Him.” 

The storm without is raging, the whirling snow is 
drifting about the windows, the sea, like a mighty foam- 
ing monster, is dashing against the rocks and ice, but 
the little home is warm and bright. For one night, at 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS , 


33 


least, it had a brave defender, a strong and able com- 
forter. At last the storm began to abate. Now and 
again, a few pale moonbeams slipping through a rift in 
the clouds peeped in through the window. Bessie, who 
seemed a little better, had fallen asleep. Mrs. Bryne 
pled with the Doctor to lie down and rest, promising 
to call him if the child grew worse. As on the previous 
night, it was high twelve o’clock when Dr. Paxton 
spread his fur coat in a corner on the floor, and 
lay him down to rest. But this time not in an elegant 
study, in a beautiful parsonage, but in a lonely cottage, 
on a dreary, storm-beaten speck in the sea, with an un- 
opened bundle of Christmas presents under his head for 
a pillow. 


34 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS, 


CHAPTER VI. 

“Glory, wonderful glory!” shouted Paxton as he 
awoke, to behold the light of the morning. “Am I 
awake, or am I dreaming?” Mrs. Bryne was in the 
kitchen at this time. Thinking that something unusual 
had happened, she cried, “Calvin, what is it?” using his 
first name unconsciously. “I hope you are not ill.” “No, 
Anna,” he replied, “Not ill, but 0! I have had a vision, 
a strange vision. Through all eternity I shall praise 
God for having sent me last night to this lonely spot. 
It has proven to be my Patmos! What I have seen I 
cannot tell you now, and possibly I may never be able 
in the language of the world to describe it. I have 
spent at least one night in God’s real school of divinity. 
I have seen the glories of that better world, and hence- 
forth I am a changed man, — changed in life and in doc- 
trine 1 — in doctrine, because in life. All the petty dis- 
tinctions and barriers which have engaged my attention 
hitherto, have melted away and disappeared and the in- 
sight for which I so long have studied has come at last. 
Not from the study or from the books, but in the line 
of humble and blessed duty and straight from heaven 
and God. Now I see that the only real Incarnation is 
the Incarnation of Love in the human heart, flowing 
out in deeds of kindness unto suffering humanity.” 

As Paxton went on to unfold this wonderful vision, 
Mrs. Bryne sat entranced with wonder and delight. 
Some how she had felt that night that heaven was very 
near to earth and she believed the vision to be a real 
revelation from God. 


CALVIN PAXTON’S P ATMOS, 


35 


CHAPTER VII. 

I can give little, if any, encouragement, Mrs. Bryne,” 
said Dr. Rolph, who, with the boatmen had just arrived. 
Pie had diagnosed Bessie’s case and was prescribing 
something to counteract the fever. “She is a very sick 
child, and her fever has run long and high. However, 
I will do my best. All that I can now say is that there 
is perhaps an even chance.” Doctor Rolph could never 
deceive and in his frank way he always stated cases just 
as they were. 

After a long and earnest conversation with his friend, 
Paxton, Doctor Rolph agreed to remain over night, as 
Doctor Paxton felt obliged to meet his congregation on 
the morrow, especially as he now had a new and a more 
blessed message to impart. “0 Paxton, pardon me,” 
said Dr. Rolph, as the Doctor was about to depart; “I 
came nearly forgetting; I have a note from Mrs. Paxton, 
to you.” Paxton took the note and read as follows: 

“Dear Calvin: When I was informed of the real situ- 
ation on the Island, as conveyed to me by the boatmen, 
I felt that we can never thank God enough that you 
were moved to go there and especially should we be 
thankful for the circumstances which have led to your 
going (Here of course, she referred to the note of Prof. 
Hammond.) My conscience has been so pricked by the 
sense of long neglected duty that I feel that we must do 
still more for dear Alice and her children, for only in 
this way can we atone for the negligence of the past. 


36 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATMOS, 


We must suffer her to remain no longer on that lone and 
dreary Island. Since your going, I have wondered how 
this could he accomplished and have prayed that some 
way might quickly be opened. Well, to be brief, the 
way has been opened. 

Our governess has just announced her intention of 
being married and has given in her notice, to take effect 
on the first of January. Now will Alice accept the posi- 
tion? If so; she will not be my servant, but my com- 
panion and friend, as in the days of old. I will help her 
to do the work with my own hands. Her children will 
be our children and go to our own school. With her 
fine accomplishments and great experience, she will be 
a blessing in our home, and you know, my dear, how 
much at home we will strive to make her feel. Con- 
strain her to come. Indeed, I seem to feel that she is 
here now. Tell her therefore, not to let me be disap- 
pointed, Lovingly, Alice.” 

The effect of this letter was very marked. Mrs. 
Bryne could not contain her feelings. The Doctor and 
his friend were likewise deeply moved. At last a way 
was opened out of all her grief and worry; only Bessie’s 
sickness seemed to hinder. But the Doctor found her 
fast recovering and already he had given Mrs. Bryne 
encouragement and this, from Dr. Rolph, meant much. 
With his heart filled with love, his mind illumined by 
the beautiful vision, his soul on fire with a new and 
burning zeal in behalf of suffering humanity, Paxton 
left for home, to meet his congregation on Christmas 
morning. 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMQS t 


37 


CHAPTER VIII. 

When Mrs. Paxton met her husband at the door 
that night, he was not the worn and weary person whom 
she had expected to see. On the contrary, he seemed 
to be refreshed and happy. His face shone as with an 
inner light and his heart was full of cheer. He seemed 
to be like a new man — for so, indeed, he was. Mrs. 
Paxton knew quite well that her husband was coming, 
for she kept in constant telephone communication with’ 
the boat-house. She did not expect however, that he 
intended to preach on the Christmas Sabbath morning, 
for she knew that his sermon was unprepared, and the 
one thing, which above all others Dr. Paxton would not 
attempt to do, was to preach unprepared. She supposed 
that he had already made arrangements with President 
Ellery of Hadding University, to preach for him, as was 
his custom when absent. 

Their meeting was as of lovers, who had for a long 
time been separated. And so in experience they had 
been. In the study, Paxton told his wife the strange, 
sweet story of all that had taken place on that mem- 
orable night; of the revelation which had come to him 
from heaven. Of the revolution which it had wrought 
in his thinking and the change which had come into 
his life. He had been brought to a realizing sense of 
his great mistake which was the cause of what he now 
deemed to be the failure of his life. He saw now that ho 
had been too dogmatic in his preaching, — too doctrinal. 


38 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


too uncharitable toward those who differed from him, 
and too severe. Now he was ready to confess it and to 
set up for the future a different standard. He would be 
true to the heavenly vision by being true to suffering 
humanity. 

Nothing could have delighted Mrs. Paxton more, 
she had long known that her husband’s views were fax 
behind the better thinking of his age and the wants of 
his people, who were literally starving for a real gospel. 
But she had refrained from mentioning this to her hus- 
band because she knew that it would meet with prompt 
disapproval. He was conscientious in his thinking and 
true to his convictions. He felt that it was in his mis- 
sion to be true to the faith once delivered to the saints, 
and to this end he was willing, if need be, to have his 
name inscribed upon the roll of martyrs. 

It was a most blessed experience; never before did 
that study seem to have so much of Christ and heaven 
in it. Again the great organ began to peal forth and the 
choir to sing as beautifully as upon the night before 
when Paxton read the note from Prof. Hammond. But 
this time the meaning was more fully understood. “And 
there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the 
field keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, 
the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of 
the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore 
afraid. And the Angel said unto them, Fear not; For 
behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which 
shall be to all people; for unto you is born this day in 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


39 


the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” 

Paxton and his wife were stirred to their deepest. 
They looked into each others faces, but" neither one 
could speak. Speech seemed to be empty and meaning- 
less, for heaven indeed was there. Clasping each other 
in a fond embrace, as if moved together by the same 
holy impulse, they kneeled upon the study floor and 
prayed. The organ was playing soft and sweet. The 
voices of the singers seemed to Paxton to sound more 
like those of the glorified beings, whom, with other 
ears and eyes, he had seen and heard the night before. 
And there, in the quiet of that study, now so close to 
heaven, Eev. Calvin andMrs. Paxton, dedicated them- 
selves anew to the service of God and humanity. 


40 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS t 


PART II. 


CHAPTER I. 

Another Christmas Sabbath has dawned in beauty up- 
on the world. The bells peal forth their sweetest chimes 
to usher in the joyous day. Never did the chimes of 
the Old North sound half so beautiful. The world to 
Paxton was a new world with new meaning. The morn- 
ing prayer was not read from a book; it was a simple lit- 
tle story straight from the heart which Paxton sent up 
to heaven. Beautifully he remembered the dear ones 
on the dreary Island, — the mother, the children, and 
especially the sick little Bessie. And this led him to 
remember all others in similar conditions, in a world 
of grief. His prayer was direct, sweet and simple, like 
that of a little child. 

As the organ voluntary began that morning in the 
Old North, an unusually large and fashionable audi- 
ence filled every available spot in the great edifice. For 
of course they were anticipating something grand in 
music, as also from the lips of the learned preacher. 

At last the fine figure of Dr. Paxton appeared upon 
the platform, clad as usual, in a black silken robe, which 
the Old North required its preacher to wear. But many 


CALVIN PAXTON’8 PATMOS, 


41 


noticed the absence of the manuscript which, in a fine, 
dark cover, the Doctor always held in both hands, as 
though his very life were dependent upon it, — and it 
was. His face was a study. Now it seemed almost 
sweeps over it, as sunlight and shadow playing upon 
some beautiful landscape. Those who knew Paxton 
best, felt that something unusual had occured, or was 
about to, and they were not disappointed. 

After the Christmas song, so exquisitely rendered, 
Doctor Paxton arose to speak, but it was not the ser- 
mon which three days ago he had outlined in his study. 
That sermon was never written. The Doctor at once took 
the great mulititude into his confidence, as though 
they had been a few, long trusted and well beloved 
friends, and they also took the pastor to their heart. 
In a few touching words, he unfolded a brief outline 
of the strange experiences through which he had 
passed. A wave of genuine delight swept over the entire 
congregation, as he spoke of the experiences which had 
revolutionized his thinking and changed his life. 
Henceforth, he would preach the beautiful Christ-life 
in its simplicity, and strength in relation to every day 
life and duty, rather than a cold, lifeless and antiquated 
system of theology, which he had decided to abandon 
forever. At this announcement, the great multitude 
broke forth into applause, but with uplifted hand, the 
Doctor quickly suppressed it. 

It was quite evident, however, that his announce- 
ment did not meet with entire approval. Deacon Em- 


42 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATHOS , 


mons Flint, who sat directly in front of the Doctor, and 
a few others, wore a look of sadness, and of worry, for 
they had long prided themselves upon being a bulwark 
of orthodoxy, while their pastor was its strongest de- 
fender. Now' they seemed to feel that they were on a 
stranded ship, which was fast drifting toward the break- 
ers and rocks. Flint had been for years the leading 
Deacon in the church and really felt that the church 
could not exist without him, and there were a few others 
in the congregation of the Flint type' — a few, who, with 
the ruling deacon, decided in their minds, that Paxton 
must immediately be dealt with, while a few others wept, 
for they really thought that their pastoPs mind was 
giving away. But the feeling, as a whole, was one of 
universal approval, of genuine rejoicing. It was like 
that of a warm gulf stream coursing through the heart 
of a cold ocean. 

As Paxton began to describe the glory of the heaven- 
ly vision, all was still as death. This was evidence of 
the reality of his experience, for they well knew that 
hitherto he had been almost destitute of the visionary 
faculty and even of the power of description. But we 
will let Paxton relate his story in his own words: 

“My dear people,” he began, and on his face there 
shone a light, pure and beautiful, as from another sun. 
“The strange experience which I am about to relate, 
will be, I am sure, a great surprise to you all, especially 
to those of you who know me best. To stand before 
this congregation, and to unfold out of the depths of 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


43 


my own experience, the glory and beauty of a heavenly 
vision, was something hitherto the most remote from 
my thought, for this power you know was not my pos- 
session. The lack of insight has always been my greatest 
limitation, and the source of deepest regret. How long 
and how earnestly I have labored to unfold the deeper 
truth of God, you may never know, and I shall 
not undertake to say. If the study of books and theories 
and close conformity to creeds and doctrines could have 
given me this insight, it would have been mine long 
since. Only within the past two days have I discovered 
the chief source of my failure and loss. The thing that 
I have most longed for has been power to reveal more 
fully and accurately the beauties of the Christ-life, — 
God in man — the Incarnation. To-day I find myself 
before you with no doctrinal sermon, but I believe, nev- 
ertheless, that I bring to you a deeper and a diviner 
message. I have received a gleam from that sun which 
alone illumnies and gives insight. In brief, I have re- 
ceived in a night, that for which I long have sought in 
vain. Not from the works of the fathers, however, not 
in yonder study, not from the grand halls of learning 
which I still respect and which form so great a part 
of our life here, but in the path of humble, sweet, and 
long neglected duty. In ministering unto the earthly 
needs of the poor, as well as unto the spiritual needs 
of the rich. I have received this blessing upon a lonely 
Island in the sea, through a vision, by which my 
thought has been completely revolutionized, my heart 


44 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS f 


annealed, my life humanized, transformed and dedica- 
ted anew to the service of humanity and therefore to 
the service of God. 

“If I were a painter, I should endeavor to make this 
the masterpiece of my life, so that beholding humanity 
might stand entranced and inspired by its beauty. If 
I were a musician, I should strive to give it expression 
in the sweetest strains of music ever heard; if I were a 
singer, I should endeavor to unfold the glories of the 
better land in the sweetest and sublimest notes. But 
these are not my gifts; therefore, I must rely upon 
what now seems to me, as never before, to be the poor 
media of human speech. For the dearest thoughts that 
come from God to man are those which burst through 
language and escape.” As the Doctor spoke these words, 
not only did his face become luminous, but his voice 
grew wondrously rich and melodious, and all felt that 
truly he had been with God. 

“I was upon Beacon Island,” he continued “that 
lonely, cold and boisterous speck in the ocean; I was 
there upon the mission of mercy already referred to, 
having sacrificed preference to duty, the comforts of the 
home and study for humanity’s sake. It was midnight 
in a lowly cot. A mother and her little children, one 
sick possibly unto death, are there. Weary of the hard 
and perilous journey, for we well nigh lost our lives in 
crossing Peril Reef, I lay me down to rest and sleep. 
But lo! I awoke upon a world of wonderful magnifi- 
cence and surpassing loveliness. My vision was clarified 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


45 


my eyes open to sights which defy description and my 
ears to sounds never heard on earth. I heard music 
unspeakably grand. 

“The atmosphere was so clear, that objects thousands 
of miles in the distance were plainly visible as though 
near at hand. Its mountains rose in awful and solemn 
grandeur, clothed in ever changing light and beauty. I 
had read the Peasant’s dream, — how that while he slept 
his humble cottage arose into a grand and noble palace; 
and through windows, arched and beautiful, he looked 
out upon vast estates which were all his own. IIow the 
fireplace became an altar, overshadowed by seraphim; 
the chimmey a golden ladder on which his children, 
living and dead, passed like heavenly visitors, to and 
from the worlds of light, bringing beautiful gifts. And 
I had thougth such visions worthless! But now I see 
their mission, their meaning and their significance. 
Every one can have his Peasants’s dream if he will. 
Every one may have his Patinos, too, and God has giv- 
en mine to me.” 

Here Doctor Paxton cited many interesting cases, 
showing that in the olden days people were guided 
largely by visions and dreams, and still, he declared 
they form an important part of our life, still our ideals 
are brought down from the mountains and the light and 
beauty of heaven, by which earth is illumined and beau- 
tified, are seen from the dark and lonely places of the 
earth. “But, ‘he continued/ “as our dear friend, Wil- 
liam Wholeheart, told us, so recently, in words of won- 


46 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


derful strength and beauty, the light of heaven dawns 
only on the souls who minister unto those who are lost 
in the shadows; in the lowly path of duty, the light of 
heaven gleams, and on my darkness the light has sweet- 
ly dawned. Once I was blind, but now I see. The cur- 
tain of time rolled up, the theater of heaven revealed, 
the ever green mountains shining beautifully in the 
light of God. The valleys of rest, and peace and flow- 
ers — the arbutus, the violet, the pale lady tresses, cycla- 
mens, and thousands I had never seen, in fadeless beauty 
and sweet perfume — rippling streams of health and 
trees of healing, light in ever changing colors, which 
never weary and ever charm, so beautiful, so healing in 
its nature, caused by the revolutions of those great and 
glorious worlds in space, which are clearly seen as though 
they were near by; beings large and perfect — the loved 
ones from whom on earth we have been torn apart, 
grown to the proportions of heaven and into the likeness 
of God; faces glowing with perfect health and delight, 
eyes beaming with love and tenderness and trust, such 
is heaven, when seen in its own light, but who, indeed, 
can paint its beauties or tell of its delights in the lan- 
guage of the world? Its glories are beyond the powers 
of speech to portray. The beauties of the rose, the rich 
colors of the violet, the exquisite painting of the sea 
shell, the avalanche tumbling into a myriad sparkling 
crystals, the rythmic splendors of the arched skies, all 
that is grandest and most beautiful on earth, are but 
faint reflections of the beauty of heaven as seen in the 
light of God. And I can say with Bulwer: 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS, 


47 


“ ‘Brighter than the golden sun sets 
Which delight this earthly clime; 

Than the splendors of the dawning, 

Passing o’er the hills sublime. 

Is the richness of the radiance 
Of the land beyond the sun, 

Where the noble have their country. 

When the work of life is done.’ 

“And this leads me to behold gems of truth and 
beauty in the heathen philosophies for which, hitherto, 
I have had only contempt. 

“It seemed to be the first Chrstmas eve, and it began 
in heaven. In a fragrant valley, surrounded by the ever 
green mountains of eternal life where the streams of 
health and healing flow down from the city of God, I 
was in the presence of the shining host who minister on 
earth to the heirs of glory. They seemed to be speaking 
of their mission to a world of grief, and 0, it was blessed 
to hear them. From them I learned the real meaning 
of the great controling influences in the history of man- 
kind, namely, War, Wisdom, Law and Love. The first, 
they contended, had accomplished its purpose. The last 
was to transform the second, and the third was to set 
the first forever aside. The angel of battle related the 
sad story of earth during his ministry; the angels of Wis- 
dom informed the great company of the achievements 
and failures of knowledege, as the influence of war upon 
the conquerers themselves was such as to be deplored, 
so Wisdom had failed to redeem even the wisest of man- 


48 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATHOS, 


kind. Wisdom had indeed made the world more beau- 
tiful. It had made marble breathe and canvas, speak 
and man adore, but the time had arrived for a grander 
revelation to the world, for a deeper and a diviner in- 
fluence upon the human heart. More of heaven must 
come to earth — the heart of man must come into closer 
touch with the heart of God. The stream of eternal 
life must flow down from heaven to refresh and beau- 
tify the world. The time had come for the law of Love. 
Earth must be ruled henceforth as heaven is. 

“Thus it dawned upon ny illumnied vision that earth 
is but a reflection of heaven, where men think and feel 
as angels do. And now I know that even angels desire 
to look into the deep things of God. I have learned also 
how the Christ laid aside his robes of heaven, and leaped 
into the arena of the world. The Incarnation is no 
longer a mystery, for it is seen from the light which 
shines from within. It is only the mystery of loving 
sympathy which one life imparts unto other lives. As 
we imagine ourselves in the place of others, living their 
lives, feeling with their hearts, seeing through their 
eyes, bearing their burdens and sharing their grief, 
so we incarnate ourselves in humanity, and this 
is what the Christ did in a higher degree. He 
remained in heaven, but he sent froth his life 
to be revealed first in a sweet boy, who receieved 
the Christ spirit — the Incarnation — on that day when he 
heard the Father’s voice bidding him be about his 
Father’s business and obeyed it. After the death of the 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


49 


man, Jesus, who was a real Incarnation in human form 
of the Christ in heaven, his spirit passed into humanity, 
where it continues to reveal itself in ever increasing 
strength and beauty, as the years go on. 

“First in a single man, Jesus the Nazarine, did the 
Christ reveal himself from heaven, but now his spirit 
entered into all men, bidding them live according to 
that perfect example, until they become like him and see 
him as He is. So each one of us has another and a bet- 
ter self in another and a better world. This is his real 
self, for The soul that riseth with us here, our life star 
hath had elsewhere its setting and cometh from afar/ 
Such dear ones, is the vision which has come to me in 
the only way that such a vision can come, as our dear 
Wholeheart told us so beautifully not long since — in the 
path of humble, loving service, — a vision which has rev- 
olutionized my thinking, and changed my life, and 
which will continue to guide me and all who may fol- 
low me through the years to come, in that path which 
Jesus trod, the path of humble duty, the path of loving 
obedience, the path of sweet humility .” 

As Paxton closed this strange discourse, so utterly 
foreign to anything which he had produced hitherto, 
profound silence reigned. Faculty, and Students, Pro- 
fessors and people were alike impressed. President El- 
lery leaned his noble head upon his hand during the 
discourse and seemed to be engaged in silent prayer. 
On Prof. Hammond’s face tears glistened, and from his 
eyes there beamed the sweet light of sympathy and 


50 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS, 


gladness. But Flint was fidgetly and even showed signs 
of anger. He rolled his flashing eyes around like 
search lights in order to detect the influence of what 
he regarded as such pernicious doctrine, upon the con- 
gregation, and his discovery grieved him more. After 
the choir, in soft, sweet tones, had sung the closing 
anthem, and the great congregation past out. Few 
words were exchanged. It was discovered, however, that 
Flint was really angry. He found among the great 
mulititude only three or four sympathizers, and these 
were persons of a very low order of intellect, and still 
lower order of character and life. 

Only a few days previous, Flint had consulted his 
pastor with reference to getting these same men out of 
the church, declaring that they were a stain upon its 
character, — but now they accompanied him in his mis- 
ery, — he even strikes hands with them against his pas- 
tor, because he feels that it is his duty to defend the 
faith once delivered to the saints. Nothing but doctrinal 
differences could have separated between Dr. Paxton 
and Deacon Flint or have broken their friendship. How 
can these things be? Why will one sacrifice everything 
that is beautiful and true for the defense of a dogma 
from which the breath of life has departed? Flint saw 
no good or beautiful side to the change which had come 
into Paxton’s life. He was not thinking of this act of 
humanity which had been accomplished. Indeed, he 
heartily wished that Beacon Island had disappeared in 
the sea and that Prof. Hammond had been sleeping in- 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


61 


stead of writing the note, which was the means of 
alluring his pastor and his church from the true faith. 
Yesterday there was nothing within the bounds of rea- 
son that Flint would not have done to help his pastor. 
But to-day he seemed to be willing to stoop to any depth 
and join hands with those for whom at heart he had 
nought but contempt against the man who has thus 
departed from the “true faith.” Alas how can it be? 
Only because religious fellowship is the dearest and 
sweetest of all fellowships, and for this reason religious 
disagreements are the most bitter. The brighter the 
light, the darker the shadow which it casts. 

But good old Sally Hobson, Flint’s colored wash 
woman, was nearest the truth, when, in her conversa- 
tion with some one, her remarks upon Flint’s com- 
ments were heard and reported. “I knows mighty little 
bout doctrine,” she said, “and cares less, but one thing 
I does know, I’se seen plenty religion in dis yere house 
for de last ten year, and moh, but we’se nevah seen one 
speck of de kind of Christianity which de deah 
man talked to-day. In de church day makes me set 
under de back staers in de galary and only dare with de 
promise ter Flint dat Ide go in arley afore de sarvice 
begun and slips out when day wor a singin de last 
tune. It makes me pore, sore ol’ heart feel as do 
it ware a healin’ up to heah a word spoke in de 
intres of de pore, an’ to know dat heah aftah dere goin’ 
to have a bit of consideration. ’Clar, — seems do de 
jnillendiam war a cornin’ to de world. I should think 


52 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATHOS , 


dat saints on dar way to pardise would mos’ have to stop 
at purgatory to listen to dat ar’ kind of talk. Masr Pax- 
ton may not any more have Deacon Flint’s kind of re- 
ligion, — an’ de Lawd knows we’s had ’nough of dat — 
but I’s willin’ to wagah my wash-tub dat dere be more 
genuwine religion, hereonwards, in de deah man’s little 
toe, don der been in his whole body frough all the 
hindermost part of his life.” And Sally was right. 

Since the occurence of this strange event, many 
years have come and gone. The Old North Church has 
become a life giving center and a source of power. 
Streams of benevolence and of life flow out from her in 
all directions. She has become, as it were, a great heart in 
a center of a system from whence the streams of warm 
life blood are borne along many bounding arteries, to be 
distributed, to every member, according to its need. It 
has risen like a sun in the moral heavens, to pour its 
sweet light and healing beams into the darkest lives, 
into the cold, sore hearts, to brighten, to heal, to restore 
and to cheer them. And she has found abundant op- 
portunity for such service, even in her own locality and 
among her own members. For when the great congre- 
gation, in response to the pastor’s invitation, assembled 
on the Wednesday of the following week, to re-dedicate 
themselves to God by consecrating themselves to the ser- 
vice of humanity, the revelations of even a week’s ser- 
vice were astounding and humiliating. Misfortune, dis- 
tress and grief were discovered among their own mem- 
bers, even on Mansion Park and Forrest Avenue, in 


CALVIN PAXTON'S PATMOS , 


53 


High and Belden Streets. Oh! if they had only known. 
Where was Richard Bardon and his partner, J ohn Flem- 
ing, once so active, so kindhearted and benevolent and 
whose names were still on the roll? Some one re- 
membered that they had failed in business, many re- 
membered that they had dropped out, still others had 
heard that the former died in the poor-hospital, and the 
latter was lying at the point of death in the same place. 
Oh! if they had only known. 

Where was the dear and charitable Mrs. Benson, 
once so active in all the organizations of the women of 
the church, she who had done so much to help uplift 
suffering humanity? Certainly she was not in the beau- 
tiful home in Mansion Park — only a block away. Nay, 
for that home was wrested out of her hands long ago 
by some, alas, whose names were on the same church 
roll. Some knew that she was driven to the keeping 
of a lodging house in New York City, and on account 
of an heroic effort to support her beautiful family, she 
had lost her health and was really in distress. Oh! if 
they had only known! And were was the handsome 
and charming girl, Jennie Lee, who in childhood was 
the sweetest little bud in that garden of flowers? They 
recalled how her little recitations and songs had cheered 
the Sunday-school concerts, and who, after she had grown 
up and become educated in music, a singer of note, had 
charmed and blessed the great congregation. A little 
misfortune had caused her to be treated coldly by the 
church and so she had dropped out and drifted away — 


54 


CALVIN PAXTON’S PATHOS , 


away. Where was she, where was she? Dear Prof. 
Hammond went in seacli of her, as a father in searching 
for a lost child. He was fortunate in tracing her, and 
found hsr, but Lord! — I cannot tell you where. Loved 
for her beauty and worshiped for her talents, she was 
likewise shunned on account of some trivial offence, 
and she too, had dropped out and drifted into the 
stream of death towards the fatal plunge. But she 
longed to come back. When she saw Prof. Hammond, 
her dear old Sunday School teacher of former days, she 
rushed to his arms, she covered his hands with kisses 
and with, tears — tears that burned his heart. 

When he related some of these things to the con- 
gregation there assembled, Hammond, though a man of 
remarkable self control, broke down and wept, and the 
great congregation wept audibly, even men sobbed aloud, 
Oh! if they had only known, if they had only known! 
Out from their hearts came pity, out from their eyes 
came tears, but better than all, out from their treasures 
came thousands and even hundreds of thousands to 
inaugurate a work such as they had not seen, but such 
as every Christian church should do for Christ and hu- 
manities’ sake. Such a revival was never seen before, a 
revival of humanity, and its influence will bless the 
world for all time to come. 

The Old North Church is now known the world 
around. Paxton has become a noted preacher in the 
truest sense. For his writings he receives a greater in- 
come than before, which is all donated to the cause of 


CALVIN PAXTON’S P ATMOS , 


55 


humanity. Associated with him in his great work, are 
many pastors and laymen. Eev. William Wholeheart 
has become his co-pastor. Thousands flock to hear these 
men of God. Every Sunday afternoon the great choir 
divides, going to many lowly spots to thrill and bless the 
humble ones with their sweet music. Wholeheart’s former 
church is never forgotten for he and Paxton preach 
there in turn, going and returning on the fast electric 
line which has been extended from Lone Valley to the 
City of Allendale. 

Paxton’s mind is the center of a new and living the- 
ology, a theology that admits man, as well as God. Ilis 
library is the receptical of another kind of books. Not 
the dead bodies of the past, but the “precious life blood 
of many a master spirit.” 

Anna Bennigton Brine has become the happy wife 
of Arthur Bradlaw, a prosperous business man, a former 
member of her father’s Sunday School class, and who 
gladly attributes his success in life to the wise counsel 
of Mr. Bennington. Bessie, a sweet girl of seventeen, 
and exceptionally bright and talented, has become a 
Freshman at Wellesley. Willie, an equally bright and 
beautiful boy, still displaying the same good judgment 
which we noticed in his childhood, is being fitted for 
Harvard College. As Anna and her beautiful children 
occupy the same pew which she did in the days of her 
father’s prosperity, her face wears an expression of gen- 
uine happiness. Her past seems like a strange dream 
that has faded away in the light of the new morning, 


r>G 


CALVIN PAXTON'S P ATMOS, 


for her present is full of sunshine and the future is ra- 
diant with hope. As Dr. Paxton glances from his grand 
pulpit down into those kindly eyes, which ever beam 
with tender light and love upon their precious benefac- 
tor, many persons fancy that they behold in his face 
a soft, sweet light, as from another sun; but he takes 
not the glory to himself, — nay, for his glance now falls 
upon Prof. Hammond at his left who came to him on 
that memorable night with a message from God, now 
upon dear Wm. Wholeheart at his side, whose wise coun- 
sel and sweet spirit is still a source of inspiration to him 
and also on his own dear Alice, who, by reason of that 
note suggested the outline referred to, which revolu- 
tionized Dr. Paxton's thinking and changed the course 
of his life. Through all eternity, Paxton and his great 
and grateful people, will never cease to thank heaven 
for that ever to be remembered night spent upon the 
lonely island in the sea, no longer known as Beacon 
Island, but Calvin Paxton's Patmos. 















































t 



MAR 6 l 899 








LIBRARY of congress 


0 002 185 553 4 


